Break
by Karalena Cullen
Summary: AU/Slash:The breeze felt cold against his face as Clark vanished, Lex carefully placed the old, scrappy teddy bear back in its place beside the pillows. Lex knew it was a lie. There was no such thing as security. And no matter how impervious, invulnerable and super strong his husband was, it still wasn't enough. There were some things, that not even Clark could save him from.


**Break**

By: Karalena Cullen

A/N: A very special thanks to my very good friend, Dreamcreator. Thank you so much for your awesome beta job, and for the help with Clark. :)

Also, I'd like to thank Harlequin4Ever and Lana Lang for their help with one of the scenes.

I love you all! Thank you so much 3

And this is sort of a song fic. The story is set to the song: "Storm" by: Lifehouse. If you haven't heard it before, take a listen, it's on youtube ;)

"I missed you for dinner tonight." Clark looked up as his husband entered the bedroom. The glow from the laptop screen threw a sickly glow over his face, highlighting the dark shadows beneath his tired eyes.

Lex made no response as he made his way over towards the closet, sliding out of his charcoal suit jacket.

"As a matter of fact, I missed you last night, and the night before that too." Clark shut the lid to the laptop, and reached over to switch on the bedside table lamp. The large, lavish bedroom was bathed in a gentle, citron light. He rubbed at his eyes a moment before leveling his gaze on his still silent husband who was presently hanging his suit back onto the rack in the closet. Standing there in nothing but his dark boxer shorts and socks, he looked damn near emaciated. His ribs seemed to be stark bruises beneath too pale skin.

Clark felt a pang of disturbed heartache, followed by a weary chaser of guilt. He knew that Lex had been passively unconcerned with silly little things like getting enough sleep, or even eating. It was a constant battle just to get him to sit down for five minutes and eat more than two bites of dry toast. It was Clark's job to see to it that his husband didn't waste away into a walking bag of bones. Just one more epic fail there Kent. "Lex..." Clark's voice was raw, but Lex finally turned to look at him. His sunken and pale silver eyes appeared so alien to Clark, that it effectively choked the rest of what he had been about to say in his throat.

"Turn out the light, Clark." Lex's voice was just as deadened as his eyes.

Clark set the laptop aside on the bedside table, and clicked off the light. With a shivery, cold feeling, he slid back and pulled the covers up under his chin as Lex slid beneath the covers beside him. Lex made no move towards Clark, and Clark made no move towards Lex. He felt like he should say something, reach out and pull the fragile man into his strong arms and hold him safe and close forever. But instead they lay there in the darkness in silence. Less than inches away, yet Clark could feel the chasm between them as immense as the cold, lonely, blackness of deepest space, and growing ever further.

_How long have I been in this storm?_

_So overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form_

_Water's getting harder to tread_

_With these waves crashing over my head_

"Damnit, Lex. Stop being such a whiny, little bitch. I promised Harls and the kids that we'd be home in time for dinner tonight. So let's go. Chop chop, come on." Bruce clapped his hands together, the sound ringing loudly through the room that only moments before had been blessedly silent save for the tap, tap, tapping of the computer keys beneath his bony fingers.

Stormy slits glared over, "Leave me alone, Bruce."

Bruce opened his mouth to retort. Something about how Lex had been the one to come to him in the first place, demanding a spare room at Wayne manor. And if Lex didn't appreciate his and his family's efforts to include him, then there were dozens of perfectly fine Hotels in Gotham City from which Lex could choose from.

But anyone who had ever known and loved Lex Luthor, would have noticed the tell-tale tic pulling at the corner of the younger man's lower lip. Bruce knew it was a sign of tightly controlled emotion. Bruce took in a patient breath and his tone softened, "Auri's making your favorite, and Harls said if she had time after work she'd be baking her famous cherry pie."

Tic.

"Come on, it won't kill you."

"I'm not a fucking child to be enticed nor cajoled Bruce. I'll leave when I damn well feel like leaving. So go on..." Lex flickered his hands out towards the door, his tone turning flippantly irritable, "Totter on off back home to your pretty little family and enjoy your perfect little dinner and leave me the fuck alone."

Bruce could hear the crack behind Lex's snarky tone and his own voice was soft and patient, "We're all hurting right now Lex. We all miss her. And the only way any of us is going to get through this is together."

Sharp, bright pain flashed briefly behind Lex's gray-violet eyes. For a moment, Bruce thought those pale cheeks would finally be wet with the tears that should have been shed weeks ago. There was a hot stinging in his own eyes and he swallowed the hard lump in his throat as he moved towards Lex.

Lex shot up violently from his seat, his shackles up, face hard and jaw tense. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?" He growled out through gritted teeth.

Bruce stopped where he was and proceeded carefully. Dealing with Lex these past few weeks was not unlike walking through a minefield.

He paused a moment at his bedroom door, his eyes darted briefly towards the closed bedroom door just a little ways down the dark hallway. The silence roared in his ears. She could be in there, behind that door. Her long, dark hair would be splayed over her too large pillows as her tiny, rose petal lips parted slightly as she breathed softly. The silver moonlight streaming through the large, panel window would throw the shadow of her dark eyelashes onto her sleep flushed cheeks, giving the illusion of daddy long leg spiders.

He could walk softly over to her, she would be clutching her favorite teddy bear, Paddington in her frail but chubby child's arms. He would pull her flowered quilt, the one with the pattern of purple lilacs (the same shade as her bright eyes hidden beneath lavender lids) up over Paddington and tuck it just under her chin. He could lean down to place a light kiss to her strawberry scented hair, and then turn to go out again. Leaving her to dream the dreams of a happy little girl who was loved so, so very much.

The ancient grandfather clock at the end of the hall chimed out three times. Something constricted tightly in his chest, and there was a cold, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He took in the breath his lungs were screaming for, and turned the knob to enter into his own bedroom. He shut the door quietly behind him and walked gingerly in the dark towards the bathroom, not wanting to wake his sleeping husband. The roaring in his ears ceased, replaced by the now too loud tick, tick, tock of time moving once more. Each tick, each tock of the beast marking each continuing second of a world that continued turning, unaware and uncaring that it turned now without her.

_If I could just see you_

_Everything would be all right_

_If I'd see you_

_This darkness would turn to light_

"Losing her like that was...awful. But you're not the only one hurting Lex." Bruce's oceanic eyes washed emphatically over Lex. "You're not alone in this. We all loved her, and we all have to get each other through this."

Lex stood statue still, frozen and cold. His gaze was hollow and ghostly. Bruce moved to take the smaller man into his arms, but Lex's entire body seemed to recoil. His eyes flared back to life, or some semblance of it. He shoved hard at Bruce, his face a mask of pallid rage. "Get out."

Bruce had the decency to budge and fall slightly back. "Lex, please..."

"I said, get out. Get out of here Bruce. Get out!" Feeling a sudden surge of inexplicable and violent rage, Lex rushed at Bruce. With a wild roar he tackled him just below the waist and both men came crashing to the floor.

Bruce let out a cry of surprise only after Lex landed hard on top of him. Lex's fists assaulted his face and chest and stomach forcefully, but the blows landed impotently against Bruce's impervious body. Lex had gone silent, his lips a hard, tight line as his eyes flared in anguished anger. Bruce made no move to stop Lex or defend himself. He felt no physical pain and yet, it was as though he felt Lex's pain, heated and buzzing like fifty thousand volts of lightning. He knew that for Lex, that was all that he had left... for now. It was all that Lex could feel, the numbness and the cold, and then this volatile, bitter rage.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Clark's eyes shot open in alarm, his heart pounding into his throat as his husband loomed over him, his face flushed almost crimson in his rage.

"What? What's wrong? What's going on?" His voice was thick with sleep and he wiped at his tear sticky face trying to rouse his brain into the conscious world in which Lex was roaring at him.

"How dare you, Clark! What are you doing?! This isn't your room!" Lex lunged towards him and yanked at the teddy bear he had been clutching tightly to his broad chest. "This isn't your bear! You have no right being in here, get out. Get out!" Lex now held Paddington fiercely to his own chest, his face livid, and his eyes unforgiving.

Clark felt fresh tears stinging his eyes as he sat up and began smoothing the wrinkles out of the flowered quilt where he had been laying. He didn't understand why Lex was so angry and shouting him. He had needed to come in here, to feel close to her, to remember her and grieve for her. He must have cried himself to sleep. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but he had felt so very heavy and so exhausted. "I... I'm sorry Lex, I just..." He stammered, unable to look into those hate filled eyes that seemed to burn into him, branding his soul cold and blistering.

"You just what, Clark?! I don't care! Just get out!"

"Lex..."

"Get the fuck out!"

A loud sob escaped Clark's tight throat as he rushed past his husband and then disappeared from sight as he super sped out of the room.

The breeze felt cold against his face as Clark vanished, and Lex could hear the downstairs door slamming as Clark left the house. Left alone, Lex didn't consider the fact that he had just possibly irrevocably hurt the man who had loved them both with his every beat of his beautiful heart all these years. Instead, he carefully placed the old, scrappy teddy bear in his place beside the pillows. He tugged gently at the quilt, smoothing out the wrinkles from where Clark had so ignorantly lain atop of. Then Lex smoothed his palms over the pillow, Clark's scent mixed with hers, wafted up at him and his jaw tightened as he gritted his teeth against his blinding anger. This wasn't his room goddamnit. It was all he had left of her, and now Clark had ruined it! Contaminated it, and desecrated it with his stupid, stupid smell that wasn't hers!

Lex stormed out the room, but shut the door gently behind him. A few minutes later he was back at her closed door, a silver key grasped securely in his trembling fingers. He inserted the key into the doorknob, turned to lock it, and then placed the key deep into his pocket. He strode away from the locked door and rushed down the hallway and into his own bedroom. He marched over to the closet and reaching up on tip toe he pulled his suitcase down. He threw the case onto the bed, popped the catch to open it, and feeling numb once more, he began to fill it.

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

"Lex!" Clark's voice cut through the strange haze in Lex's head, and then the world shifted as gravity fell away beneath him as Clark lifted him off of Bruce. Lex just went limp in his arms, resigned to the restraint of his husband's strong arms. "What the hell did you do Bruce?" Clark demanded of the other man.

Bruce glowered at Clark as he got to his feet. "I didn't do anything."

Clark scoffed and glared back at Bruce, "Yeah. Right."

"I was the one on the floor with his face being beaten in asshole!" Bruce barked back at Clark.

Clark helped his now limp and silent husband over towards the couch. Lex fell back onto the soft leather. He said nothing, his head was suddenly pounding and so he closed his eyes and tried to block out the world. "Are you okay? What did Bruce do?" The corners of Clark's plump lips were turned down in a deep frown, his forehead was creased with worry lines as he leaned and spoke softly to Lex. But Lex made no hint that he had even heard Clark as his eyes remained closed and his head remained pressed into the back of the couch. The only reason Clark knew that his husband was even still awake was the fact that his chest rose and fell in short, rapid little breaths. Clark sighed and reached into his pocket to withdraw Lex's inhaler. "Here, I brought this just in case."

Lex finally opened his eyes and upon seeing the inhaler his face scrunched up into a scowl. He reached for the inhaler and Clark felt relieved, but Lex only closed a tight fist around the inhaler and continued to scowl without a word.

Bruce let out a frustrated little rumble from where he stood, "Just use the inhaler, Lex, before your face turns blue."

"If he doesn't want it, he doesn't have to use it." Clark defended his husband.

"And that's part of the fucking problem right there Clark." Bruce quipped.

Clark tensed his jaw, his nostrils flared in aggravation. "Oh? Care to enlighten me on that point there Bruce?" He stood facing Bruce, his back to Lex who remained ever silent on the couch. "So this is all my fault is it?" He motioned a hand towards Lex behind him. "Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Oh stop playing the martyr boy scout, that isn't what I was saying."

"Isn't it?" Clark's green eyes flashed angrily at Bruce. His tone became sarcastic and bitter as he continued, "I mean, of course it is! After all, nobody knows Lex better than you do Bruce. Nobody else knows how to take care of him and love him and be there for him as well as you do right? That nobody so obviously being me, as you've continually pointed out to me and thrown into my face ever since we first got together!"

Clark's voice was steadily rising until he was out and out shouting into the older man's face. Bruce only glared back at him, trying to restrain his own frustrated anger at Clark's ridiculous outburst. "Oh please! Get the fuck over it Clark, that was years ago. We've all moved on from that, why can't you?"

"Why?! That's what this is all about it isn't it?" Clark took a heated step towards Bruce, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his fingernails digging painfully into the flesh of his palms. "Clark is nothing but a stupid hick farm-boy who knows nothing about how to take care of a problem unless it's some criminal freak hell-bent on blowing us all to kingdom come. Why else would he have come to you and not me Bruce? Why is it that it's always you he goes running to?!"

"Oh for god sakes Clark, now you're the one being a whiny little bitch! Maybe if you spent less time in those gay fucking tights and spent more time down here in the real world with your family..." Bruce's eyes were bright and hard in his vexation as he shouted back at Clark. "At least I know how to make myself available when the people I care about around me are in pain flyboy! You just take the fuck off to the nearest kitten trapped in a tree..."

"Fuck you Bruce!" Clark took a step to lash out at Bruce, and Bruce glared challengingly back, holding his ground and ready to take and give back whatever Clark tried to dish out. ("How dare you have the right to criticize me, when you do the exact same thing as well? Pot calling the kettle black Mr. I-Am-The-Greatest-Detective, you asshole. You also spend time in those 'gay fucking tights' and try to save the world. But the difference is, I'm not some emo Goth who likes to hide in his little corner of his little dark cave, whimpering and complaining about the world around him when nothing goes your way. You're a manipulative bastard with the social skills of a deranged monkey so don't you ever tell me what I'm doing wrong you-")

"Both of you just shut the fuck up!" Lex's voice was a tightly controlled growl. Both men paused in their advance on each other and turned to look at Lex with tense faces. Lex was sitting up from the couch now, his back straight, shoulders squared and hands folded casually in his lap. He levelled his steely gaze on both of them and spoke calmly. "You're both behaving like little brats. Talking about me like I'm not here is simply insufferably rude and I will not sit here and tolerate it a moment more." And without another word, Lex rose from his seat and strode out of the office, leaving Clark and Bruce behind to gape after him in stunned silence.

Clark paced frantically, his dress shoes slapping and stomping loudly over the hard tile floor of the Kent-Luthor kitchen. The smell of strong coffee mingled with expensive bourbon. Every few steps Clark would pause, roll up his suit sleeve to scowl at his silver watch. With a worried gaze out the large, dark window and a tilt of his to hear if he could hear anyone approaching, he would let out a quiet sigh and resume his pacing once more.

Letting her dark hair down from its simple pony tail, Harleen pressed her fingers to her temples and let out a sigh. "Stop pacing, it's getting on my nerves." Clark's repeated pacing, and the clunk of his shoes along the floor, were enough to drive anyone insane over a short period of time, let alone a whole room full of angsty, heartbroken souls. "I know it's hard, right now, but...worrying isn't going to help let you think clearly."

Clark stopped pacing and chose to clutch tightly onto the lip of the kitchen sink instead. There was a quiet squeal as the steel protested beneath his tight grip. "Maybe I should go look for him? Make sure that he's okay?" His green eyes were wide and dark with concern for his husband.

"Make sure he's not dead in a ditch somewhere you mean." Bruce snorted and shook his head. "Lex never could face this kind of shit." He grumbled drunkenly from where he sat slumped over at the kitchen table beside his wife and Lana Lang. "Nothing but a little pussy coward."

Clark's eyes flashed on Bruce, "Shut your trap you ass, I wasn't asking for any advice from the peanut gallery."

Lana looked up at Clark from where she had been sitting silently nursing a cup of hot tea. Ignoring Bruce and his dumb witted remarks, she simply said, "I'm sure Lex is going to be okay Clark." Her voice was soft and a little breathless.

Harleens eyes stared straight ahead, glassy and filled with raw emotion, but still that chill from the metal straining in protest made her feel a little ill. She nodded at Clark's suggestion, and was about to pipe up and offer to help him as well.

But not before her husband opened up his mouth.

Her features were half deadpanning him, half daring him to keep talking, when he wasn't being asked to. "If you can't say anything intelligent, I'd advise you to keep that pie hole shut, before I actually shut it myself." Her glare was a warning, before looking over to Clark.

Clarks grip eased somewhat on the sink and the squealing stopped. Some of the tension seemed to leave his face at Lana's words. They had been the first she had spoken all day. And he appreciated Harley's efforts at putting her husband in his place. Part of him wished she would have simply smacked him hard across the mouth, but her tone of voice was also bitingly sufficient.

"Thanks guys." He let out another sigh and began pacing once more, unable to simply stand still. He stopped again, tilting his ear towards the front of the house. But it was only a branch scraping against the side of the building. All of his senses seemed hyper aware right now, and he felt like a taut rubber band ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

He leaned back against the wall by the sink and slammed his head against it with a frustrated growl. "He's not the only one hurting here! I mean how could he do this? How could he just not go to her funeral for crying out loud?!" Tears started to glitter threateningly in his emerald eyes. "She was his baby girl... how could he..." His voice cracked and he couldn't go on. The tightness in his chest was too great. He bit down on his trembling lip and tried to hold back the sobs that wanted to break free from his chest.

Lana got to her feet and went over to Clark to place a soft hand on his arm. "Clark I can take the car out and go look for him?" Lana tried to give him a smile, but her lips refused the gesture.

Taking a deep breath, Harleen felt like glass that was just about to shatter. Her heart broke for Clark's grief and pain, and she went over to wrap him in a massive hug. "You know that both of us will help you look for Lex, and yes. I know he should have damned well have been here, and he is going to be in so much trouble from me, let alone you, so we'll deal with that after Lex is safe and sound in sight." She held him tight and looked at Lana with tears in her eyes.

Clark relaxed slightly between the warmth and comfort his friends were trying so hard to give to him. Even though the tears started to streak hotly down his face, he pulled them both tightly against him and placed a kiss to the top of each head, one dark, one light, and then he let them go. "Thanks. I appreciate you guys wanting to help, but I know it's late and it's been a very long, very bad day for all of us." It's been the longest, most heartbreaking day of my life, Clark thought to himself. It was topped only by that last day...when they had lost her.

Lana let out a sigh and excused herself from the room. She disappeared down the hallway and Clark could overhear the ringing on the other end of her cell phone. He could hear her frustrated whisper, "Come on Lex, where are you?"

"Lex is a big boy. If he wants to come home, he'll come home, and if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be." Bruce leaned back in his chair and wobbled slightly. His eyes were blaring pink and bloodshot, as he leveled them on Clark. "Not even you, flyboy, would be able to find him if he didn't want you to be found." Bruce lifted his half empty bottle of Jack in salute, but when he tilted it back to take a drink, he lost his balance and fell. He toppled over backwards in his chair with a loud clattering as the wood hit the hard tiled floor, and Bruce let out a loud yelp.

Clark didn't want to admit that what Bruce said was true, but they all knew it was. When Lex was hurting he was like a wild and wounded animal with a tendency to run off alone into the forest to lick at his wounds in peace. It was difficult for Clark understand. Whenever he was hurting or upset he needed to be close to people. He needed to be touched and held and spoken softly too to feel comforted and grounded back into the world.

The loud crash as Bruce toppled over backwards in his chair brought Clark out of his own little reveries. As much as he really didn't want to be alone right now, he knew they would all have to be getting back to their own homes and their own families.

"I appreciate you guys staying with me, but I think now would probably be the best time to bring an end to a very long and trying day, and you've still got a long drive back to Gotham. I'll be alright." He frowned over at Bruce who was struggling without much success to get back on his feet. "You should probably get his sorry ass to bed before he hurts himself."

Letting out a sigh, Harls nodded. Blinking back her own tears, she gently wiped Clark's away and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Alright, but call if you need me for anything. I can be back here in a flash." With one last squeeze, she released Clark's hand and went over to help her drunken husband back up to his feet. Harley whispered an apology to him for snapping at him earlier and told her husband softly that it was time to go home.

They were all hurting right now. Clark watched Harley half drag, half push a very drunk and stumbling Bruce out the door. He felt a small stab of regret for having snapped at Bruce earlier. Despite their differences, at least Bruce was still here, putting in the effort. At least he had the decency to show up and show that he was hurting in his own stupid, Bruce-like way. Much unlike the empty, cold shell of a man that had once been his husband. Clark let out a quiet sigh and walked back over to stand over the kitchen sink. His watery eyes stared out the large window and out into the great expanse of darkness beyond. "I don't know how to help you through this Lex, if all you're going to do is keep running away." He pressed his palms flat against the cool glass and dipped his head as the sobs he'd been holding back all evening finally gave way, and he cried.

_I know you didn't bring me out here to drown_

_So why am I ten feet under and upside down?_

_Barely surviving has become my purpose_

_Because I'm so used to living underneath the surface_

"Well, look who's decided to come back to join the rest of us here in the land of the living." Bruce's tone was sarcastic and only served to irritate Clark further.

"Oh are you still here?" Lex tilted his head and gave Bruce the same irritating attitude right back.

Clark could tell that Bruce was struggling with deciding on whether or not to snap back at Lex or let it go. "As much as I've enjoyed our little visit, as always Bruce," Clark made Bruce's decision for him. "Do you mind if I have a few moments alone with my husband? He is the one I came here to see, despite your ever appealing charms."

Bruce seemed almost relieved as he shrugged and grabbed for his jacket. "By all means Clark, the floor is all yours." He turned to Lex, "Just call if and when you want me to pick you up."

Lex could have screamed that he was a grown man and perfectly capable of driving himself from point A to point B with little or even no assistance whatsoever. But he appeared to be tired and almost bored with the argument. It was like beating a dead horse. He could scream and get irritated all he liked, it wouldn't make any difference to big brother Bruce over there. So Lex simply nodded and motioned Bruce out of the room.

They were both silent even long after Bruce had made his exit. Clark stood with his arms folded over his chest, chewing on his bottom lip while he stared at the dull carpet. Lex knew his husband was nervous now that they were alone. It was the first time they had been alone since Lex had blown up at Clark over the teddy bear. That had been almost a week ago and Lex had almost resigned himself to the fact that Clark wasn't going to come after him and plead with him to come home after all. Yet here he was. Finally. And Lex wasn't so sure it wasn't too late now. He closed his aching eyes and pinched at the bridge of his nose. "I'm not really in the mood to talk right now Clark. So if you have something say, go on and just say it."

Lex's voice sounded dead even to his own ears. In all honesty, even he didn't really understand what exactly had happened, much less how the hell to fix it. But he doubted very seriously that having one of Clark's "family discussions" was going to be enough.

"I'm not here to talk, Lex." Surprised, Lex opened his eyes to see something in his husband's eyes that he couldn't quite make out. There was pain there, yes, and maybe even something akin to defeat. Yet, there was also a look on Clark's face that Lex had always associated with Superman. It was the look Clark got on his face after he had picked something up with his super hearing. It was a look that always preceded the donning of the cape and the hero flying out to save the day. Determination, Lex concluded.

"Then why are you here?"

Clark's dark hair fell into his eyes and he absently brushed it away. "I need to show you something." Lex gazed his husband in confusion, but before he had a chance to protest, Clark had swept Lex up into his arms. He was holding him bridal style, and Lex felt his face flush slightly in embarrassment. He always felt ridiculous when Clark held him like this, and yet, part of him couldn't help but feel... well safe was the only word Lex could think of. There in his husband's strong arms, pressed securely against Clark's solid chest and engulfed by his scent. It felt like nothing in the world could hurt him so long as Clark held him close like this.

But Lex knew it was a lie. There was no such thing as security. And no matter how impervious, invulnerable and super strong his husband was, it still wasn't enough. There were some things that not even Clark could save him from. "Let me go, Clark. You know I hate it when you hold me like this." Lex grumbled and started to struggle to extricate himself from Clark's arms. But Clark's hold was firm and unbreakable, and Lex was no match against him. If Clark didn't want to let go, there was nothing Lex could do about it. This only served to further infuriate the bald man. "Clark!"

Still Clark held on, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but there's something that you really need to see. Hold on." Clark pulled Lex even tighter against his chest, and before Lex could even think to try to break Clark's grip on him, there was a great cold rush of wind and a nauseating lurch of unidentifiable, blind movement through space. The world passed by Lex's eyes in a kaleidoscope blur of darkened colors and bleeding lights. But watching it all only made his head spin and ache with sickness, and Lex closed his eyes and instinctively buried his face against Clark's warm neck. He knew they were flying, usually when he flew Clark he didn't go quite so fast unless it was a life-threatening situation. Lex wasn't much of a fan of super speed in flight, and his own arms wrapped as tightly as they could around his husband.

Lex didn't open his eyes even after he felt the ground beneath his feet. "You can let go now Lex, we're here."

Clark's hold loosened but Lex still clung tightly to Clark. "Here where?" His voice was a breathless rasp. He didn't dare open his eyes until his world stopped spinning, for fear he might be sick all over Clark's sneakers.

"Open your eyes." Clark answered softly. He pulled away from Lex which thus served to make Lex have no choice but to open his eyes or stumble blindly and fall flat on his little billionaire tush.

Lex opened his eyes, only for them to widen into saucers before he squeezed them shut tightly once more. "What the hell did you bring me here for?! Take me home, Clark. Take me home this instant!" His voice was bordering on hysteria.

Lex could have run. He could have. But he was frozen to the spot. He would have to open his eyes to run, and if he opened his eyes he would have to see it, and he didn't want to see it. He didn't want to look. If he looked, then that meant that it was real, and if it was real it meant that he had failed, and that ... Clark's soft voice broke through his thoughts, "I can't do that. I'm sorry, but you have to face this. You can't keep running from this anymore baby, please. Open your eyes."

Lex shook his head violently, his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. "Why are you doing this? I can't do this Clark, I won't do this!"

_If I could just see you_

_Everything would be all right_

_If I could see you_

_This darkness would turn to light_

Clark was beside him now, he could feel the heat radiating off of him in the cool winter night. Despite himself, Lex leaned into the warmth. One of Clark's arms folded gently around him, bringing him closer. When he spoke, his voice was thick and broken with pain, "Because we've already lost too much. Don't make me lose you too."

They were moving forward, Lex moved blindly, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut as Clark led him slowly forward. He felt a sharp, cold and angry pain slash through his chest at the anguish he could hear in his husband's voice. Guilt like a knife in his gut cut deep at his words, but still Lex resisted. "Don't make me do this Clark." His own voice was barely a desperate whisper.

"You have to. You know you have to."

Clark took hold of Lex's hand and they came to a stop. When Clark brought their hands up and reached out, all Lex could do was let himself be guided. But when he felt his palm come down on something cold and smooth like stone, and hard like ... marble his entire body tensed and he froze solidly where he stood. It was so cold, and Clark's hand that lay gently atop his own seemed almost unbearably hot in contrast. Lex's knees began to tremble, his entire body began to shiver. "No. Clark. Please." It was so cold beneath his hand, so unforgivingly hard despite the smoothness of the stone. His voice was breaking, his heart was pounding so violently in his ears he feared his head might explode. But now that he was here, he knew Clark was right. He knew that he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes shut forever. Clark showed no mercy, he continued to press Lex's hand down onto the cold, hard stone.

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be alright_

Then Lex opened his eyes, and when he did, everything broke. A strangled cry rose up out of his throat and his legs gave out from under him. He fell to his knees and they sank down into the damp, freshly disturbed earth. "NO!" Both his palms reached out to slap against the darkly etched tombstone:

_**Eleanor Selena Kent-Luthor**_

_** Beloved sister and daughter**_

_** Some people believe in angels, I held one in my arms.**_

_** Her song has ended, but her melody lingers on.**_

_** December 7, 2001- November 23, 2013**_

Clark fell to the ground beside him, his arms wrapping tightly around Lex's shaking shoulders. "That's it baby, let it out. Let it go." His own face was wet with glistening tears.

The pain was excruciating. Lex had never felt anything quite so overwhelming and terrifying in his entire life. He collapsed against his little sister's headstone, he felt he would break with each anguished sob that ripped up out of him. The stone was so cold. He couldn't quite get that out of his head. The headstone was so cold, and the ground was so cold, and she was here, in this dark, cold place, all alone buried deep down inside where it was so cold and there was no air. "Lena! Oh god... oh god why? My baby girl! Why lord?!" Tears gushed from his eyes to rain down his pale and agonized face. He choked on his sobs, gasping for air, imagining his little girl like that. It made him sick, it made him angry, it made him want to scream until his voice broke and still he felt he would never be able to stop screaming. His mouth would forever open in a silent and terrible scream. All he could do was clutch out desperately for Clark as all the pain and grief that he had been holding inside of himself since the moment the machines stopped and her little chest ceased to rise and fall with her breaths. "I couldn't save her. Why couldn't I save her?" His fists pulled and tugged desperately at Clark's shirt.

Clark held onto Lex, his own sobs breaking free as his husband finally let go. They clung to one another there on the ground, the cold winter night air stirred up the scent of freshly churned earth and newly laid grass. They shivered together as a thick cloud moved over the moon, throwing them into shadow. "There wasn't anything any of us could have done Lex. We did everything we could. We had to let her go baby. We had to let her go."

"Why did it have to be her? Why Lena? Why couldn't it have been me? Oh god, why her?!" He collapsed against Clark, falling limp and trembling all over as strong arms simply held him. "She's gone Clark." He howled in his anguish. "My baby girl... she's gone and there's nothing I can do about it!"

_And I will walk on water_

_And you will catch me if I fall_

_And I will get lost into your eyes_

_I know everything will be all right_

_I know everything is all right_

The moon was full and bright and glowing powerfully before them. The wind was cold, but Clark was warm, and Lex pressed himself down tighter against his back. His arms were wrapped securely around Clark's neck as Lex lay atop Clark. They just flew. They moved gently through the rolling white clouds shining like fresh fallen snow in the silver moonlight. They flew in silence, letting the wind wash through them.

Lex felt raw and achy inside, but after his break down at the cemetery, there seemed to be this feeling of quiet, peaceful relief. His chest felt a little less heavy, his head a little clearer. The pain was still there, and with time he knew it would fade into a dull aching sort of emptiness. When she had gone, she had taken a piece of him with her, and he would never get that back. But he knew know, that he would go on. There wasn't any other choice really. And he wasn't completely broken after all. He still had Clark. He would always have Clark, his own personal savior. Clark who would never give up on him, never cease to protect and love him. He knew know also that Clark couldn't protect him from everything. And that was okay too. Lex could accept that now. And although Clark hadn't been able to protect him from this, he was there to help pick up the pieces of Lex's shattered heart. And in time, they would help each other come to accept the fact that there was nothing that could have been done. There was no changing it. No matter how many times Lex went over it in his mind over and over again, no matter how he might have made different choices or decisions, in the end, it was inevitable. And they would both come to accept that in time.

For now, they took solace in each other. In the peaceful caress of the moon beams falling softly over their tear stained cheeks. They opened themselves up to the gentle moon, reveling in her sweet restoration of their souls. Everything seemed much simpler up here, the earth left far beneath them. Nothing but the sound of the wind in their ears, the feel of the gentle mist from the clouds in their faces. The clouds rolled before and beneath them like a great white ocean with soft, massive waves billowing softly over them. And as they passed through an especially large crest, the overwhelming scent of lilacs and wrapped around them. Lex could feel Clark's muscles tense beneath him as he smelt it too. For a moment as the mist rose in front of the moon, it seemed to lend a familiar lilac hue to the moon. The color of her eyes. And they both knew. "Lena." Lex whispered, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth even as his eyes filled with fresh tears. Then just as suddenly, the moon glowed pale blue-white once more. The illusion passed as they passed out of the cloud puff, and with it the scent of their baby girl's favorite flowers. But they knew. Lex buried his face into Clark's neck and wept openly, but this time it wasn't the soul ripping, agonizing sobbing like before. Clark was crying again too. But it was a sort of restoration for both of them. Because Lena would always be a part of them, she would never truly be gone. And for the first time since she had first become ill, they knew...that everything was going to be alright.

_Everything's all right_

_Yeah_

_Everything's all right_

The End.


End file.
